Thug King

The air inside Kenji's sparse apartment felt different with another person in it. It was the first time he'd had a guest. The silence, which was usually a canvas for his own thoughts, was now filled with a quiet, nervous energy emanating from Yui Amano.

"P-pardon the intrusion," she said, bowing deeply as she stepped inside, carefully placing her shoes by the door. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the stark simplicity. The single futon, the low table, the bookshelf with its dauntingly academic titles. There were no posters, no video games, no clutter. It was the room of a monk, not a teenage boy. It was as ascetic and focused as the boy himself.

"It is no intrusion," Kenji replied, placing the container she'd given him on the low table. "I am grateful for the meal."

He moved to his small kitchenette to prepare some tea, his movements economical and precise. Yui sat nervously in the formal seiza position at the table, her hands clenched in her lap. Her heart was beating a frantic rhythm. She had spent the entire evening in a state of terrified anxiety, replaying the rumors and fragmented videos of the courtyard war. The thought of him facing hundreds of people alone had been unbearable. The urge to do something, anything, had finally overpowered her natural shyness.

"Are… are you really alright, Tanaka-san?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "They said... they said it was the whole school against you."

"There was a large-scale disagreement," Kenji confirmed as he returned with two cups of green tea. He placed one in front of her. "It has been resolved."

His understatement was so profound it was almost comical. He spoke of a school-wide riot as if it were a minor squabble in a student council debate. Yui looked at him—at his calm face, his unmarked hands, his clean, undamaged uniform—and the sheer scale of the power gap between him and the rest of the world truly hit her.

He opened the container she had brought. Inside was a simple but beautifully arranged meal of ginger pork, rice, and pickled vegetables. The aroma was warm and inviting.

"You are a skilled cook, Amano-san," he said, a statement of fact.

Yui's face turned a deep shade of crimson. "It-it's nothing special! I just… I enjoy cooking." It was the one thing she felt confident in, a small area of expertise in her otherwise quiet life.

They ate in a comfortable silence. For Kenji, it was a novel experience. He had always eaten alone, his meals a functional part of his daily regimen. Sharing a meal, especially one prepared by someone else as a gesture of care, was a new and pleasant data point in his understanding of human connection.

For Yui, the silence was a relief. She had worried she would have to carry a conversation, that her awkwardness would be on full display. But Kenji seemed perfectly at ease with the quiet, and it allowed her own anxieties to slowly settle. She watched him eat. He ate with the same efficiency and grace he did everything else, with no wasted movements.

"Why?" she asked suddenly, the question slipping out before she could stop it.

Kenji paused, his chopsticks hovering over a piece of pork. "Why what?"

"Why did you refuse?" she clarified, her voice gaining a bit of strength. "Everyone is saying you won. That you beat Yamata-kun and became the new... the new King. But you said no. Why would you do that?"

It was the question the entire school was asking.

Kenji considered it for a moment, genuinely trying to articulate his reasoning. "A king has duties. He is responsible for the well-being of his subjects, the defense of his territory, the resolution of disputes. It is a position of great burden." He looked at her, his gaze direct and clear. "My purpose here is to learn how to be a normal student. Acquiring a kingdom seems counter-productive to that goal."

Yui stared at him, her heart aching with a strange mix of emotions. He was so powerful, yet so simple. So wise, yet so naive. He saw power not as a prize, but as a weight. While everyone else was fighting to climb the ladder, he was simply trying to find a place to stand on the ground.

"But... without a king," she said, echoing Akari's earlier thoughts, "won't there be chaos? Won't everyone start fighting for the empty throne?"

"That is a probable outcome," Kenji agreed, with the calm of a meteorologist predicting rain.

"Then... aren't you worried?"

"Worrying would not prevent the chaos," he replied, repeating his earlier sentiment. "However," he added, a new thought occurring to him, "if that chaos were to interfere with my studies, or to cause you distress, then it would become a problem that requires a solution."

Yui's breath caught in her throat. Or to cause you distress. He had included her well-being in his equation. The thought sent a thrill of warmth through her, a warmth that chased away the lingering chill of fear. She was a part of his world, a factor in his decisions. For a girl who had always felt invisible, it was a powerful, heady feeling.

After they finished the meal, Yui insisted on washing the dishes, a small act of domesticity that felt both incredibly bold and perfectly natural. As Kenji was seeing her to the door, she paused.

"Tanaka-san," she said, her voice soft but steady. "I know I am not strong like Sato-san, or smart like the Student Council President. I can't fight by your side. But... if you ever just want to... not fight? If you ever want a quiet meal, or just some peace... I can help with that."

It was the bravest she had ever been. She was offering him the only thing she had: a sanctuary. An island of peace in the violent ocean of his life.

Kenji looked at her, at her earnest expression and the genuine care in her eyes. He gave her a small, almost imperceptible smile. It was the first true smile she had ever seen from him.

"I would like that, Amano-san," he said. "Thank you."

Yui felt like her heart might burst. She bowed quickly and hurried away before he could see how red her face had become.

Kenji closed the door, the pleasant aroma of her home-cooked meal still lingering in his apartment. He felt a sense of contentment that his rigorous training had never provided.

But that peace was destined to be short-lived.

His hearing, honed by years of survival in the mountains, picked up a faint, rhythmic sound from far away. A sound that was growing steadily louder.

Vroom. Vroom. VRRROOOOMMM.

It was the sound of engines. Dozens of them. The guttural, angry roar of modified motorcycle engines, converging on his quiet residential neighborhood from all directions.

He walked to his window and looked down. The street below was beginning to fill with bikers, their leather jackets emblazoned with the emblem of a snarling, fanged wolf. The Kurokami Wolf Pack, the largest and most vicious Bōsōzoku gang in the entire prefecture.

They weren't Seiryu students. They were older, harder, and more dangerous. This was a threat from outside the school walls.

News of Seiryu's Kingless Kingdom had already reached the ears of the jackals waiting on the outside. And they had come to stake their claim, starting with the man who had created the vacuum.

Kenji watched them gather, his brief moment of peace shattered. The chaos was starting sooner than he'd thought. This was a new kind of problem.

And it was parked right outside his front door.